


Emily's Christmas Wish

by GleefullyWicked



Series: Emily's Not Dead and Neither is Queequeg [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Christmas, Christmas 1998, Diana Fowley is mentioned, Diana can rot, Emily's not dead and neither is Queequeg, Episode: s06e06 How the Ghosts Stole Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Post-Episode: s06e06 How the Ghosts Stole Christmas, SO MUCH FLUFF, Smut, but also they're gonna bone, canon adjacent if you will, don't worry she's not in it though, i guess it's kind of an alternative to, in chapter 3, single mom Scully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-13 07:44:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16888452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GleefullyWicked/pseuds/GleefullyWicked
Summary: It's Christmas 1998 and Scully's got her hands full being a single mom to precocious Emily, who really only has one thing she wants Santa to give her this year.(LOOSELY based on elements from the 1994 remake of Miracle on 34th Street, which is MSR AU fanfic)





	1. Christmas Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is my first time ever writing for this fandom and I really hope I do the characters justice because I love them a lot. Rating and chapter number are subject to change. Anyway, I hope that you all enjoy the fic and if you do, please comment. Comments will sustain me through the harsh North winter.

If anyone had told Dana Scully in 1992 that in six years, she would be waiting in an impossibly long line at the mall with her  _ daughter  _ to see Santa Claus, she probably would have laughed in their face. And yet, here she is. 

It’s been an hour already and it feels like they’ve barely moved ten feet. There are several infants in the line crying up a storm, and frankly, Scully doesn’t blame them. She’d had half a mind to conveniently forget to take Emily for pictures this year, recalling the incident from her own childhood when she unbearded the unconvincing Mall Santa like some kind of Scooby Doo villain. But of course, her daughter wouldn’t forget such an important yearly tradition. She doesn’t remember everything about the Sims, being at such a crossroads age when they died (which, given the circumstances of their deaths, is probably for the best) but this is certainly one of the things she does.

“Mommy, how many days until Christmas?” Emily asked yesterday after getting home from preschool- her last day before winter break. Scully has gotten to a point where being called that doesn’t surprise her anymore, but rather it feels so good that she and Emily have built up that kind of love and trust in so little time.

“Uh...eight. If you don’t count Christmas Eve,” Scully replied easily enough. She and Emily were going to go to Maryland to see her family that day, but she’d still decorated the apartment weeks ago. Christmas has always been her favorite holiday, even if she’s not particularly fond of mall crowds.

“But Christmas Eve counts! Fox said so!” Emily insisted, looking up from her snowman coloring sheet, gripping her red crayon tighter.

“Oh he did, did he?” Scully asks, knowing full well Mulder would do as much and still a little amused that Emily is the only person in the world he’ll let call him Fox.

“Mhm. He says that Christmas Eve is the part of Christmas when you eat egg rolls and watch movies and wait for Santa.” Just then, Emily slowly put down her crayon as the realization hit her. “Hey, when are we gonna see Santa? I have to tell him what I want or he’ll never know.”

“Emily, I’m sure he has a good idea-” Scully began to argue, thinking to all the presents she’d bought last week when Mulder offered to babysit for a few hours. Everything was either something Emily had previously expressed interest in, or something Scully had a strong feeling she would like.

“No! I haven’t told  _ anyone  _ what I really want!” Emily insisted.

“Then tell  _ me  _ what you want, what you really, really want,” Scully laughed, quoting Emily’s favorite song to listen to on the drive to school as she smoothed her daughter’s hair down. It’s longer than her adoptive parents kept it, allowing some waves to develop in it. She looks so much like Melissa that it still startles Scully sometimes. 

“I  _ can’t!  _ Only Santa can know and if we don’t go see him then I won’t get what I want for Christmas!” Emily’s face went so red as she got worked up it actually reminded Scully of  _ herself _ .

“Okay, okay! We’ll go tomorrow.”

So now here they are, Emily practically buzzing with excitement in her red Christmas dress and black tights as they inch closer to the big man himself. She hadn’t even fought Scully when she wanted to curl her hair this morning, wanting to look her best as a last-ditch effort to make it to the very top of the Nice List; picture for Scully’s desk at work be damned.

Scully looks around the busy mall, at people rushing to get their Christmas shopping finished, wondering why in the world anyone in their right mind would wait until the week of Christmas to do their shopping- at the mall, no less! Even she had gone to Toys R Us on a weeknight when it was practically abandoned, save a few other smart parents like herself.

“Mommy, look! It’s Fox!” Emily says suddenly, and Scully’s attention is immediately turned to Mulder, making a beeline toward them, one hand full of shopping bags, the other holding the biggest Orange Julius cup she thinks the stand has.

“Hey, look what the cat dragged in.” He says as Emily goes under the line’s red rope to run into him and give him a hug around the waist. “What are you two up to?” He asks like it isn’t obvious.

“Me and Mommy are seeing Santa!” Emily answers for them both before letting go of Mulder and reaching up for his drink cup, which he surrenders easily enough.

“Is that so? Well, I know you’ve been a pretty good girl this year, so I wouldn’t be shy to ask for something really big.” Mulder assures her but earns a disapproving look from Scully (and her wallet). 

“Mulder, that’s all sugar,” She says, indicating the huge cup Emily’s having to hold with two hands as she sips away at it.

“Nonsense. That’s got all kinds of good stuff including fruit and protein, Scully.” 

“It’s really good, Mommy.”

“So...last minute shopping, I see.” Scully indicates the bags in his hands.

“Uh, yeah. You know, for my mom, others…” He trails off.

“Can I see?” Emily asks, handing the cup back to him and going for the bags, which he immediately holds up out of her reach.

“Nope. Not a chance.”

Emily pouts and goes back under the rope to her mother.

“Fox, where are you gonna go for Christmas? Me and Mommy are going to my Grandma’s house. That’s in Maryland!” Emily says matter-of-factly, despite knowing full well Mulder has been there for drop-offs before overnight cases. Sometimes Scully wonders if her mother will ever get tired of that arrangement, but Margaret insists that she could never tire of her granddaughter. Though it’s only been a year.

“Not totally sure, kid. But the real question is, what are you and your mom doing on Christmas Eve? I was thinking about renting  _ Die Hard  _ and getting some Great Wall takeout if the two of you would like to join me?” Mulder asks, causing Scully to wonder why he hadn’t asked her at work yesterday; they were just filing paperwork, after all. But then, he knew she couldn’t lie about being busy in front of Emily.

“Can we, Mommy? Pleeease?” Emily practically begs while Mulder sticks out his bottom lip at her. She’s dealing with  _ two  _ children.

“Make it  _ Home Alone  _ and at my place and you’ve got a deal, Mulder.” She agrees, rolling her eyes.

“Yippee-ki-yay,” Mulder says with a smirk.

“ _ Home Alone,  _ Mulder. With the little kid and the burglars. No  _ Die Hard.”  _ Scully reiterates as she steals the Orange Julius cup from him.

Mulder lingers outside of the rope, listening to Emily tell him all about the crafts she made in school on the last day before winter break as they finally seem to be nearing the front of the line, finishing off the Orange Julius between the three of them. Sometimes it surprises Scully how good Mulder is with her daughter.

“Next!” One of the “elves” ushering the kids calls to Emily, who doesn’t need to be told twice as she runs up to Santa and hops into his lap, beginning to whisper in his ear something that Scully can’t make out.

“So Mulder, when I was Christmas shopping, did Emily by any chance mention anything to you about what she wants this year?” Scully asks, starting to worry that her daughter’s in for a world of disappointment if the thing she wants is something really outside the New York Times’ Top Christmas Presents of 1998.

“No, we mostly just watched R-rated movies and ate junk food and drank coffee,” Mulder replies sarcastically as they go to the cashier to buy the overpriced photo prints.

“That’s not funny.”

“She mostly just told me all about her theory of how Santa goes all around the world in one night while we watched Rudolph. Love that movie.” Mulder switches his shopping bags to the other hand.

“And that theory would be…?” Scully asks, desperately hoping the answer has nothing to do with extraterrestrials.

Mulder looks almost afraid to say it, but he does, regardless. “That Santa’s sleigh is actually a spaceship and the reindeer are equipped with space suits and jet packs.”

Scully pauses for a moment.

“Mulder, I’m starting to think that maybe I shouldn’t be letting you around my impressionable little girl as much as I do.”

“Hey, don’t look at me. That theory was all her,” He insists. “Though I  _ may  _ have suggested that Santa might also need the ability to manipulate time so that what feels like a night to us all is actually much longer.”

Scully looks back up at Emily, watching her continue to converse with the mall Santa. “When do you think is the right time to tell her the truth about all of this?” She asks. It’s a question she’s been mulling over for a few weeks now. She knows Emily’s not even five, but it seems wrong to tell her a total lie. She remembers being teased as a child when believing in Santa became uncool, after all. 

“Probably just don’t. She’s whip-smart, like her mom. She’ll come to a completely logical conclusion sooner than you think,” Mulder says after a beat, and Scully knows he’s right. She won’t ruin something magical for her daughter when she’s already been through so much in her young life. Just last Christmas, Scully didn’t know if Emily would even live this long. But through procedures shrouded in secrecy by her own government, Scully has her daughter, and as much as she would desperately like to know the whole truth about what they did (and partially undid) to her baby, this is one X File she will willingly leave alone. For now.

“So do you really not know what you’re going to do for Christmas Day?” She asks, wanting to take her mind off when her little girl’s life was a ticking time bomb.

“I was going to see my mom, but it turns out she’s going on a seniors cruise. So I might offer to help hold down the fort at the Bureau for time and a half. Let some poor wiretap S.O.B. be with his family,” Mulder says this nonchalantly, but Scully knows he would have liked to visit his mother. She’s all he really has anymore, after all.

“That’s sweet of you, Mulder.” 

“Yeah, but the money doesn’t hurt. Besides, I’ve never really been much of a Christmas guy. Christmas Eve with you and little Scully Jr. should be more than enough for me.” The nickname for Emily emerged when Scully had inadvertently coordinated their outfits one day soon after Emily moved in with her and it’s been somewhat of an inside joke ever since.

“Well, I’m flattered.” Scully smiles as she unconsciously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

They have been treading a dangerous line as of late. What was once just flirtatious undertones between them has become somewhat overt. And she can’t deny that Mulder is a handsome and sweet man, but she worries that she and Mulder aren’t equipped to be in the kind of relationship that she should be in when she has a child to think about, no matter how much Emily seems to adore him.

The elf running the printing station pulls up the picture taken of Emily on the monitor and Scully’s relieved she was smiling nicely, considering that it seems most of the other mothers have to tell their children to do as much, but Mulder had distracted her.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Mulder says as Scully scans the pricing options. She knows her mother will kill her if she doesn’t get one, and Bill and Tara have warmed up to Emily in the months since her adoption went through. Normally, the process wouldn’t have gone so quickly, but likely the same people involved with stabilizing Emily’s condition determined that Scully would be the last person to leak information about the circumstances of her daughter’s existence to outside sources, so she was granted custody easily (after a mountain of paperwork).

“Which would you say is the best deal?” She asks the elf man, knowing full well he’s probably going to recommend the most expensive thing, but she  _ does _ need plenty of copies for her family.

“Premium package comes with one portrait size, four 5x7s, and ten 3x2s. Perfect for Christmas cards and Dad’s wallet,” The man says, indicating Mulder.

“Oh, he’s not-”

“How much?” Mulder asks, pulling his wallet out of his pocket

“Thirty dollars, sir.”

Mulder hands the cash over and before Scully can protest him paying, Emily runs up to them, a huge grin on her face.

“Mommy, his beard was real!” She announces proudly. “It was the real Santa!”

“That’s great, Emily. That means he’s the definitely going to make sure you get your present this year.” Mulder says as he pockets his change from the pictures, save for a quarter. “Say, why don’t you go get me some banana candy from that machine over there, huh?” He points to a row of quarter candy machines then hands the coin to Emily, who nods dutifully and rushes over to the machine.

The photo man hands Scully the envelope of prints and she and Mulder follow her daughter.

“Mulder, you didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to, Scully,” He says with a shrug. “But I  _ do _ expect one of those for my wallet.” He jogs the rest of the way to Emily, taking a few of the little pure sugar bananas and leaving her the rest, though Scully doesn’t really mind.

She sighs as she goes to join them. Seeing the two of them like this is causing her to entertain those dangerous thoughts again. Mulder is her partner, her very good friend, but he’s as unstable as they come, and as much as she’d like for him to be  _ the  _ man in her life, she doesn’t know if she could ever in good conscience take that step when she has a child to think about.

The rest of the week goes by quickly, as Scully ends up on only one case with Mulder, and it’s relatively close, though it does involve a haunted house. The rest of her time is spent with Emily, taking her to pick out a Christmas tree, taking her ice skating, renting Rankin-Bass movies, baking cookies… Everyone always says that it must be so hard to be away from her daughter while she works, but if Scully’s being honest, entertaining her when she’s there is just as hard. So by the time Christmas Eve rolls around, Scully’s really looking forward to a night in with takeout and a movie. Once again, somehow Mulder knows exactly what she needs before she does.

“Mommy, when does Santa come?” Emily asks as she changes into her new Christmas pajamas (the one present she was allowed to open before Christmas morning).

“When you go to sleep after our movie tonight,” Scully says from behind her, brushing her hair as gently as possible. Ordinarily, they wouldn’t be doing Emily’s bedtime routine until after dinner, but she’d been so excited to put on her penguin onesie that Scully allowed the exception. And it helps that she looks adorable.

“Fox is still coming over here, right?”

“Uh huh. I just got off the phone with him and he’s picking up the food from the Chinese restaurant you like.” 

“Mmm!” Emily rubs her hands together greedily like a cartoon villain.

“You goofball!” Scully tickles the crook of Emily’s neck, forcing her into a giggle fit. They’re both still laughing when Scully hears the apartment door open, followed by the yapping of Queequeg.

“Ho ho ho! I come bearing Peking duck!” Mulder calls from the other room, having used his key. Emily scrambles off of Scully’s vanity bench, running to greet Mulder, Scully following behind her to the kitchen where he’s taking white cardboard containers out of the takeout bags. “Along with probably enough other stuff to feed us all until the New Year.”

“It smells delicious, Mulder. What do we say, Emily?” She asks her daughter, who’s managed to sniff out the box containing the sweet sesame balls like a truffle pig.

“Thank you, Fox!” She says before stuffing one into her mouth whole.

“Okay, I think we better get this one a plate at the table before she chokes.” Mulder laughs, going for the correct cabinet with ease. “You wanna help me set the table?” He asks Emily, who doesn’t even bother looking up from the food to shake her head no.

Scully laughs. “Come on, I’ll help.” She takes some flatware from the drawer and follows Mulder to the table, setting it before returning to the kitchen. “Emily, do you want milk or juice?”

“You’ll want milk with this spicy pork,” Mulder suggests.

“Can I have  _ chocolate  _ milk?” Emily asks with a bat of her eyelashes.

“Nice try but I think you’ll have more than enough sugar with this dinner,” Scully says to Emily’s chagrin, pouring her a glass of plain milk and handing it to her to take to the table. “Mulder, wine or beer?” She asks.

“Beer, please.” He says as he dishes Emily up with a bit of everything (including vegetables, thankfully). 

Scully takes two bottles from the refrigerator and joins the two of them, setting one in front of Mulder and opening the other for herself.

“So, are you going to midnight mass tonight?” Mulder asks as he forks a patty of egg foo young. 

Scully’s a little surprised he would remember such a thing. “No, that’s a little past this one’s bedtime. We went to the children’s mass a little while ago, though.” 

“It was too long and church doesn’t give you a normal candy cane,” Emily complains as she swirls chow mein noodles around her fork like spaghetti.

“Right there with you, kid.” Mulder smiles, earning a disapproving look from Scully.

The rest of dinner is spent chatting about various things, most of the conversation being held by the adults as Emily eats silently until Mulder happens to mention the haunted house incident, which Scully had tried not to mention to her daughter (she tries not to mention any of their cases in great detail, considering that Emily has an active imagination as it is).

“Were they  _ real  _ ghosts?!” Emily asks with wide eyes, “Like Casper?!”

“That’s just the thing, baby. You see, sometimes things can  _ appear  _ to be one thing but then actually be another. That’s why Mulder and I investigate the cases we do.” Scully explains, then looks to Mulder to see that he’s nodding yes at Emily furiously. “Mulder, I would really appreciate it if you would back me up on this, please?” She asks, more than a little annoyed at him contradicting her to her daughter.

“Your mom’s right, Emily. Sometimes the easiest answer to something isn’t always the right one, so we have to keep digging to find out what the right one really is. And sometimes nobody likes what that is.” Mulder says this pointedly, earning himself a kick to the shin under the table.

“But were they really ghosts, though?” Emily asks, impatient.

Scully glares threateningly at Mulder. He turns to Emily and shrugs.

Emily falls asleep sometime during  _ Home Alone _ , her head in Scully’s lap and her feet in Mulder’s. They finish the movie before Mulder carries her to bed, Scully kissing her on the head goodnight as Queequeg jumps up on the bed to snuggle with her. When they leave her room, halfway closing the door behind them, Mulder smiles at Scully.

“What?” Scully asks, confused.

“I just- it’s so weird seeing you like this, Scully,” Mulder says with a shrug.

“Like what?” She asks, crossing her arms.

“You’re such a  _ mom.”  _ He laughs and earns a light smack to his arm.

“Shut up, Mulder,” Scully says, leading the way back to the living room and sitting down on the couch, picking up her second beer from the coffee table and taking a sip.

“No, it’s not a bad thing or anything. Though you could stand to lighten up on the kid a little,” Mulder joins her, his own beer making its way to his lips.

“Oh, Spooky Mulder is  _ not  _ telling me how to parent my child-” Scully shakes her head and puts her beer down, preparing for one of their epic debates.

“Hey, there’s no need for name-calling. I’m just saying that sometimes you gotta forget the Dr. Spock rules and just let the kid be a kid, you know?” His eyes flick to her bookshelf, which indeed has gained several childcare books in the last year (Dr. Spock included).

Scully knows Mulder hasn’t really been close to a little girl since Samantha, so she understands why he so desperately wants Emily to enjoy her childhood, especially considering they still aren’t certain what exactly has been done to her. But Scully’s also a total and complete military brat at heart. She doesn’t know  _ how _ to parent if not to provide rules and structure and the occasional treat. Which, when she puts it that way, sounds like she’s talking about training Queequeg. So maybe Mulder has a point, though she’s loath to admit it.

“You’re right. I just...I want what’s best for her, Mulder.”

“And you’re doing a great job, but she’s a kid. She’s not always going to act like a mini you, you know.” Mulder takes her hand in his, his thumb trailing over the top.

“If anything, she’s turning into a little  _ you _ .” Scully smiles, thinking about a time last month when she’d picked up Emily from her mother’s house to find that she had made a rocket ship out of a large cardboard box and was pretending to be Space Captain Emily Scully, Alien Finder.

“Oh, I don’t know about that…” Mulder trails off modestly despite having been witness to that incident, a smile creeping across his face. Scully knows that he would love nothing more than for Scully’s own daughter to become a full-fledged Believer.

“Mulder, she idolizes you,” Scully says point-blank.

“Is that rough on you?” He goads her.

Scully rolls her eyes. “You have no idea.”

“So hey, now that the kid’s asleep, I  _ did  _ bring another movie, if you aren’t too tired…” Mulder says, turning to the video store bag sitting near the TV.

“Is it  _ Die Hard? _ ” Scully asks, hoping it’s at least not Christmas-themed porn. She wouldn’t put that past Mulder.

“It is  _ Die Hard.”  _ He nods.

“Okay, I’m making popcorn for this.” Scully gets up from the couch and heads toward the kitchen.

“That’s my girl,” Mulder calls after her.

Scully curses her exceedingly pale skin because there's no way in hell she can ever hide a blush, and just that little comment has her  _ blushing. _

“Microwave kind okay? I might have some Jiffy Pop somewhere but that’s Emily’s favorite so no promises.” Scully gets her kitchen ladder to reach the high cupboard even she’s too short for- it’s the only way to keep Emily out of the snacks.

“Microwave’s fine,” Mulder says, entering the kitchen and chuckling when he sees the ladder. God knows Mulder will never tire of short jokes at Scully’s expense.

“Great.” She says, grabbing the box and hopping down.

“Scully, are you okay?” Mulder asks, obviously noting the redness in her cheeks.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” She brushes him off, but no, she’s not okay because all week since their run-in at the mall, Scully’s found that her reasons for _not_ pursuing something with Mulder are flimsy at best. Sure, Mulder is _incredibly_ unstable, but never with her. She matters as much to him as his work, and his work is his entire life _._ He’s told her as much. And it’s hard to say that she can’t be with someone because of his dangerous job when she herself has the exact same job (with added dissection).

She shakes her head and puts the popcorn in the microwave, wondering why the sudden change of heart in herself. Maybe it was the sudden realization that for Emily, Mulder is not just the man who spoils her with candy and staying up late when Scully’s gone. He’s the guy she wants to emulate, the guy who wants to keep her picture in his wallet, the guy who’ll wait an hour in line with her to see Santa.

If Scully’s being honest with herself, then Mulder has been the man she’s  _ wanted _ for years. But until just now, she hadn’t realized that he’s the man she  _ needs.  _ That she and her daughter both need. He’s her partner and her  _ best friend.  _ He’s also the closest thing to a father figure her daughter has had in over a year, and Emily loves him. God, does she love him and that’s hands down the best thing vouching for him that Scully can think of.

She turns around from the microwave to see Mulder taking one of the cookies Emily had left out for Santa. “You still going in to work tomorrow?” She asks, leaning on the counter.

“As far as I know. If I can escape from the wiretaps for a while, I might look into this case down in Virginia. Something about the spontaneous abortion of devil babies.” Mulder says this nonchalantly as he gets helps himself to a glass of water and gets Scully a bowl for the popcorn. She’s not sure when he became so well-acquainted with her kitchen, but she won’t complain while he’s being helpful.

“Mulder can we maybe  _ not  _ talk about that on Christmas?” She asks as the timer dings, followed by a few more kernel pops

“Anyway, ready to watch Bruce Willis kick some butt?” Mulder asks as he takes the popcorn out of the microwave, shaking the bag and then opening it over the bowl.

Scully nods and follows him into the living room, taking a seat on the couch as Mulder puts the tape into the VCR. He fast-forwards through the previews at the beginning and then sits next to her, taking the popcorn from the coffee table.

Scully’s seen  _ Die Hard,  _ so she knows she’s not missing much when she decides to focus more on Mulder’s reactions. In their line of work, it’s rare that she can just see pure, unadulterated joy in his face as he watches a cheesy action movie, so it’s truly a sight to behold. She’s a woman with eyes, so she’s never been immune to the fact that Mulder is handsome, but seeing him outside of his FBI element in a flannel shirt and jeans is an especially good look on him.

“What?” Mulder asks suddenly, apparently having realized Scully has been staring at him for the better part of an hour.

“Nothing, I just...I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this relaxed before.”

“You should see me at a planetarium.”

Scully sighs and leans into Mulder, her head on his shoulder. She feels him tense up for just a moment before he calms down again, his arm going around her, pulling her closer to him. They stay like that the rest of the movie, not talking, just pretending to watch the movie as (at least Scully) marvels in the all-too-easy feeling of being in Mulder’s arms.

“It’s late.” Mulder yawns as he gets up to take the tape out of the VCR and put it in the bag. “I better get home.”

Scully looks down at her watch.

“It’s after midnight. I suppose that means it’s not Christmas Eve anymore.” She says, following him to the door. She remembers being a kid and secretly waiting up in her bed for that moment when it officially became Christmas morning at the stroke of midnight and she hopes Emily hasn’t taken after her in that respect. She hands Mulder his coat and notices how he lingers around the front door as if waiting on her for something. And then she realizes she actually  _ does  _ have something she needs to do.

“Will you wait here for just one second?” She asks, then bolts to her bedroom before he can answer. She gets onto her hands and knees beside the bed and reaches under, feeling around for the right present until the right shape is in her hand and she pulls it out. She gets back on her feet and turns around, only to practically jump out of her skin when she sees Mulder, one hand behind his back.

“Sorry, I just- I actually have something for you, too.” He produces a small present in the hand that was behind his back. “I know we said no presents.”

She smiles and takes the package with her free hand at the same time she hands Mulder his.

“You go first.” She insists, still not believing she managed to keep this present a secret for as long as she has. It took her months to find a VHS of The Little Shop of Horrors signed by the director himself. 

“Scully, it’s...” His finger traces over the signature, marveling at it. “The Pope of Pop Cinema himself. How did you find this?”

“Well I remember you telling me that his movies are your guilty pleasure, and I know you love the musical version, so I did some digging and it turns out that my family went to church with Roger Corman when we lived in California for a while. I contacted him and he sent me that.”

“I don’t even know how to thank you. Except now my gift feels kind of dumb…” Mulder trails off, but Scully just shakes her head, tearing into the snowman wrapping paper, revealing a little black box, which she then opens to reveal a nautical-themed gold charm bracelet, the centerpiece of which being a tiny spyglass with _Ca_ _ll me Ishmael_  engraved into it.

“Oh my god, Mulder.” She takes it out of the box and puts it on her wrist, admiring all the other charms, including a little book with  _ Moby-Dick  _ on the cover.

“It’s dumb, I know.” Mulder shrugs and clearly, it’s too dark in here for him to see that tears are welling up in Scully’s eyes.

“It’s perfect.” She hugs Mulder tight. “Thank you. I love it,” 

She expects at least one of them to pull away relatively quickly, but they don’t. They just stay there until Mulder just pulls his head back so that he can look into her eyes, but doesn’t let her go. She wouldn’t let him if he tried.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.” She sighs, thinking that her life now is completely unrecognizable from what it was when she was first assigned to the X Files six years ago, but that she would never want it any other way.

“Good thing you don’t have to find out. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good.” Scully smiles, and then they’re finally disentangling themselves, Scully following Mulder to the door. “Merry Christmas, Mulder.”

“Merry Christmas, Scully.”

She closes the door and leans up against it, biting her lip as her finger runs over the charms on her bracelet. There’s nothing like realizing you might be in love with your best friend on Christmas.


	2. Christmas Day (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in which Mulder crashes Scully's mother's Christmas get-together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are prepared for awkward Mulder. Also, this is definitely getting at least another chapter in which things get really fun. Once again, your comments sustain me as I write these so thank you to everyone who's already done so.

Mulder can honestly say that he’s done a lot of awkward things in his life, but he’s never crashed a family Christmas party. That is, unfortunately, about to change. It’s not like this was always his intent for today, but Mulder’s somewhat known for being eccentric and impulsive, so really, it would be more unexpected for him to  _ not  _ show up at Scully’s mother’s house unannounced with a potentially dangerous toy.

When he woke up this morning, he had every intention of going into work to do menial tasks for a lot more money than the Bureau ever gives him for work that at least he finds meaningful. But then when he was putting his coat on, he found something in his pocket; a Christmas card from Emily. It was absolutely covered in glitter glue and succeeded in lining his pocket with the stuff, but he didn’t mind at all. Inside were several crayon doodles, the most prominent of which was of three little figures, the bigger two (who were, judging by the brown hair and tie on one and the bright orange hair on the other, him and Scully) holding the hands of the little girl figure between them. 

Mulder would like to think himself a perceptive man, so it doesn’t exactly come as a shock to him that Emily views him as a kind of role model in the place of a father-like figure. That is just to be expected from a little girl who went from being in a seemingly perfect nuclear family to living with a loving (but a workaholic) single mother who spends most of her life with her partner, in the span of a year. 

And yet, Mulder still found himself just staring at the crude drawing for long enough that when he looked at his watch, he realized he would be late for work even if he were to speed all the way there. And if every light was green. So he called out, faking a cold, before taking the Christmas card over to his couch and sitting down, continuing to stare at the thing.

Mulder would be lying if he said he hasn’t had feelings for Scully since the moment he laid eyes on her that first day in the basement. When he was told he was getting some stuffy, Einstein-rewriting doctor to watch and contradict his every move, he never in a million years would have guessed she would turn out to be a woman he would do absolutely anything for within just a few weeks of knowing her, but Dana is that woman and so much more. Dozens of times in their years together, he’s wanted to come clean about how he feels, but he’s managed to talk himself out of it every time, usually because he knows that if she doesn’t feel the same, it would make him feel like the biggest creep alive and he doesn’t want to chance that kind of thing ruining what they already have.

But then things really changed when Emily came into the picture. Before her, Mulder never pictured Scully as a mother, despite her gentle attitude whenever they’d come across children in their line of work (even creepy homicidal clone ones), but she fits into the role like a glove. The circumstances of how Emily came to be are murky at best, and the chances of them ever finding out who her biological father is are slim to none, but Scully loves that little girl with all her heart, and Mulder can hardly blame her. She’s the only real shot Scully has had or will have at motherhood, and Emily is easily the most kind-hearted little girl Mulder’s ever met. Not to mention that she’s so smart it’s almost startling. She truly is Scully’s daughter, and she’s softened parts of her mother that had practically calcified years ago.

“Fox, do you love Mommy?” It was an innocent enough question Emily asked him a couple of weeks ago when Scully put him on babysitting detail to go Christmas shopping. Mulder had made them each a mug of hot chocolate overflowing with whipped cream, which was now all over Emily’s face.

“Well, I care about her a lot. Your mom and I have known each other a long time and we’re very good friends.” He said easily enough, it being the truth as he handed Emily a wet wipe and then picked up his own drink. He knew how Scully hated Emily being sticky when she was returned to her. Almost as much as she hated him giving the kid sugar.

“No, I mean do you  _ love _ Mommy the way that Clarice loves Rudolph?” She pointed at the claymation movie playing on the TV. “Do you want to  _ marry _ her?”

In the cliché of the century, Mulder nearly did a spit take with his hot chocolate. Or rather, he experienced the exact opposite of a spit take as it went down the wrong pipe, forcing him into a coughing fit that only Emily whacking him on the back with all her might seemed to fix.

“Well kid, that’s a pretty loaded question. Marriage is-” He takes another sip of his cocoa, wishing he’d put some peppermint schnapps in it right about now. “You see, your mom is a great woman. She really is. But we work together, and people who work together aren’t usually supposed to marry each other.” It’s a lame excuse considering that off the top of his head, he can name at least five married couples at the Bureau, and those are just the straight ones he knows personally. But it’s the best excuse he can come up with that’s not, ‘ _ to tell you the truth, Emily, I’ve carried a torch for your mother since before you were born but I’m too much of a pussy to do anything about it. So sorry, no wedding bells. Finish your cocoa.’ _

“But when two grown-ups love each other, they have to get married,” Emily stated this as absolute fact, clearly electing to take Mulder’s dancing around her original question for what it was. The kid is just too damn smart.

“Who told you that?” Mulder asked.

“Sister Sarah, my teacher.”

“Well, first of all, I still can’t believe your Mommy put you in a Catholic preschool.” Mulder pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He was not prepared for this conversation tonight. “But kid, sometimes love isn’t all that matters, you know? Sometimes there are other factors that can keep people apart even if they  _ really  _ love each other. More often than not, it takes a miracle for the right people to actually fall in love in the right place at the right time. Let alone get married.”

“Like a Christmas miracle?” Emily asked, a little smirk forming on her face that made her look exactly like a shrunken Scully.

Mulder smiled. “Yeah, like a Christmas miracle. Like how Santa gets the presents to all the kids in the world in one night.”

Emily shook her head at that last part. “That’s not a miracle, that’s just science.”

Yep, someone  _ definitely _ shrank Scully.

“Okay, Smartypants. Do you care to explain how, through science, Santa does it?” Mulder challenged her, eager for the shift in conversation as he raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll draw it for you!” Emily said, challenge accepted, as she hopped down from the couch and ran to Mulder’s desk for a piece of loose paper and a pencil.

That conversation is what led to Mulder buying her a model rocket kit for Christmas, which he had forgotten to give her when he was over at Scully’s the night before. He noticed the Rudolph-wrapped box sitting near the door when he finally looked up from her Christmas card again. That’s when he made the ultimate impulsive decision to deliver it to her personally. It wouldn’t really be a  _ Christmas _ present if she got it after Christmas, after all.

He tried calling Scully beforehand, he really did, but it went straight through to her answering machine, so he could only assume she had it off. Then he tried driving to her apartment, but no answer there either, meaning she and Emily had already left for Maryland. 

So he did, too.

His favorite radio station is only playing Christmas music, and normally that would be something worth changing the channel for, but he leaves it be, finding himself singing along to that stupid Wham song, and then Bing Crosby. Scully’s mother’s house is usually only about an hour away, but of course, it had snowed the night before, leaving the freeway treacherous for driving over 30 MPH, so it takes him nearly two before he’s pulling up outside of the house. For half a second, Mulder considers just leaving the present on the porch so that he won’t intrude on the Scully family festivities, but then he remembers that ding-dong ditching Scully’s mother is not what he just drove two hours for. Damn it, he is going to see Emily open her Christmas present he braved parking at the mall a week before Christmas for.

Mulder looks down at his outfit, consisting of a sweater Margaret Scully had bought for him the Christmas after Scully was taken, his white work button-up, and a pair of khakis. He thinks that he resembles Mr. Rodgers to a scary degree, but he’ll do anything for brownie points today. Finally, he takes Emily’s present and tucks it under his arm, deciding that if he doesn’t just go up there and ring the bell, he’ll end up sitting awkwardly in this car until he runs out of gas and freezes to death. He gets out of the car and strides up the walkway, almost making it to the porch before his feet fly out from under him on a patch of ice and he winds up flat on his back. That’s the last thing he remembers until suddenly a blur of red hair is hovering above him, fussing over him.

“Mulder, can you hear me?” Scully’s voice calls to him, at first distant, almost like he’s underwater, and then right in front of him as his senses adjust again and he sees her clearly. “Mulder, can you tell me where you are?” Scully asks as she takes off her coat and puts it under his head.

“I’m in front of your mother’s house in Maryland. Please put your coat back on.” He mumbles, noticing her very flattering but not very warm-looking Christmas outfit. God, why did he have to make a fool of himself when Scully’s in the most form-fitting thing he’s seen her wear in six years?

“You hit your head on icy concrete and lost consciousness for a few seconds. I have to make sure you don’t have a concussion. Do you know who the president is?” Scully pulls a flashlight out of seemingly nowhere and shines it in his eyes.

“Bill Clinton- would you get that light out of my face?”

“Irritable, light-sensitive...Mulder, I think you might have to go to the hospital.”

“I’m irritable because it’s fucking freezing and I’m pretty sure I badly bruised my ass. Does anyone enjoy a flashlight in their eye?” Mulder vaguely wishes he’d been left on the cold, hard ground to die. It would have saved him this utter embarrassment.

“You  _ do  _ seem pretty cognizant of your surroundings…” Scully holds up two fingers. “How many fingers do you see?”

“Two. Can you please help me up, Dr. Scully?”

“I will once you tell me why you’re here.”

“I forgot to give Emily her present last night.” Mulder reaches over to get the now slightly damp present from the snow bank. “I tried calling you.”

“Mom makes us all turn our cell phones off on Christmas. I thought you were working today?” Scully offers him her hand as he slowly gets to his feet. The world is a little less solid than it was before he hit his head, but it seems to stabilize quickly as Scully holds onto him tight, one hand holding his own and the other on his opposite bicep.

“I was supposed to but it turns out I underestimated the number of divorced agents wanting to work today,” He lies as Scully retrieves her jacket from the ground and shakes the snow off.

“And Diana wasn’t busy?” Scully asks, her jealousy palpable, but Mulder’s gotten used to it. 

He shrugs. “Didn’t ask.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to stay here. I need to observe your condition for at least another hour anyway.” Scully pats his arm and then leads the way toward the house, never having let go of his hand.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to impose-” He tries and fails to disentangle their hands but Scully’s fingers don’t budge. God, her hands are soft but what a grip.

“Mulder. You drove from Washington to give Emily a Christmas present, and you possibly have a traumatic brain injury. You’re staying for dinner.” It’s not a question and Mulder’s not about to argue against free food.

“Alright, alright. Jeez, pushy.” 

Scully rolls her eyes as she turns towards the house. Mulder quickly notices her entire family watching the exchange between them from the living room window before they realize they’ve been caught and scatter just as the front door flings open to reveal Emily.

“Fox! We thought you were dead!” She yells so loud that the neighbors at least two blocks away could hear.

“Not dead, kid. Just a little banged up.” He grumbles, feeling more embarrassed about this whole situation than he did before, which is saying a lot. So much for a smooth entrance.

“Em, we have to be very careful with Mulder until we know he doesn’t have to go to the hospital, okay?” Scully reminds her daughter, who is practically bouncing in place. Mulder’s medical emergency is likely the highlight of her day.

“Okay, Mommy.” Emily takes Mulder’s hand from Scully and leads him into the living room, having him sit in an armchair. He tries not to wince when all of his weight sits right on his still-forming ass bruise.

“Thanks, Sweetie. And thank you for your card.” He finally hands her the dented box that had somehow taken him a half hour to wrap. “Merry Christmas.”

Emily’s face lights up, clearly having not expected to get any more presents today. “Can I open it now, Mommy?”

“Just try not to get the paper all over the-”

“Yay!” Emily decimates the paper at record speed. She gasps dramatically upon seeing what she got. “A spaceship! My own spaceship!” The look on her face makes Mulder’s two-hour drive and a possible concussion all worth it.

“I figured I could help you build it and we can launch it when it gets a little warmer?” Emily crashes into his arms, hugging him with all her might. “Oof. I take it you like it?”

She nods furiously “I love it! Thanks, Fox!” She kisses his cheek and runs toward the stairs. “I’m gonna show Uncle Bill and Auntie Tara!”

“A rocket, Mulder?” Scully asks with a mildly disapproving look before beginning to pick up the remnants of wrapping paper.

“An educational toy, Scully. It’ll teach her physics and aerodynamics and...and how to paint a mean racing stripe. What did you get her,  _ My First Anatomy Book  _ and an Easy Bake Oven?” 

Scully’s still rolling her eyes at that when her mother walks into the room, taking off a pair of oven mitts.

“Fox, it’s so good to see you.” She crosses the room and places a comforting hand on Mulder’s shoulder, not so subtly using the window behind him as a mirror to look for the forming goose egg on the back of his head.

“Hi, Mrs. Scully. I wish I’d had a bit more graceful of an entrance.” Mulder says, his hand unconsciously going to the bump, which is a mistake because it’s more tender than he anticipated.

“Oh nonsense, Fox. We’re all just glad you’re okay. That ice is a killer. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m on a strict basting schedule with the turkey. And if you don’t like turkey, I have prime rib. And if you don’t like that...there are sides and dessert. Also, please call me Margaret; you’re family.” She moves to return to the kitchen.

“Margaret, have I ever told you that I think you might be my soul mate?” Mulder calls after her, his stomach already grumbling at the prospect of a Christmas dinner that doesn’t come in a tray covered in film or from a Denny’s.

“You’re cute. Dana, you might want to check that head of his again.” Margaret laughs as she finally goes into the other room. When Mulder turns back to Scully, she’s just staring at him.

“What?” Mulder asks.

“It’s just...I guess I’ve never really brought a man home for Christmas before you.” Scully seems only slightly mortified at this realization. Mulder’s not sure if he should be offended.

“To be fair, you didn’t bring me here. I kind of showed up uninvited.” Mulder supplies. “But there’s always next year.”

“I  _ could  _ have left you out on the sidewalk. God knows Bill wanted me to…”

“Oh yeah, how is big brother Billy?”

“His baby’s been crying all day, so I imagine not too great. But if you mean, ‘does he still hate you?’ The answer is yes.”

“Wonderful.” Mulder stops for a moment to take in the ambiance of Scully’s mother’s house on Christmas. The artificial tree next to him is impeccably decorated, never two of one color of ornament too close together, not too many tacky sentimental ones, save for the four obligatory “Baby’s First Christmas” ornaments. It seems as though he arrived shortly after presents were opened because everything is unwrapped or haphazardly back in gift bags. The house is apparently wired with speakers because Mariah Carey’s Christmas album is at the perfect volume level that it sets the tone of the place without overpowering conversation. It’s all very Scullyesque and homey. No wonder it’s the only place where she would ever want to leave her daughter whenever they go on assignment.

“Thank you. For coming here. I know this awkward family dinner thing isn’t really your scene, but you have no idea how happy Emily was when she saw your car pull up.” Scully breaks into his train of thought, giving him a small smile.

“Did you see the Christmas card she made me?” Mulder asks. He had begun to wonder if he was just reading too into Emily’s intent with it, but he thinks he might be correct.

“No, that must have been a school project. Why?” Scully asks, confused.

He shakes his head. “No reason. It was just very well-made.” He looks at Scully’s left wrist and sees the Moby-Dick bracelet. He supposes that means she really likes it since she had no way of knowing she’d see him today. “You’re wearing my present.”

“I am.” 

The two of them share a look, one that says far more than words. They’ve had a lot of those over the years.

When an hour has finally passed, Scully determines that Mulder’s not at immediate risk for a coma and leaves him to help her mother in the kitchen. In her place, Emily’s returned and has begun showing him all the gifts from her family (the ones from Santa had, of course, been dropped off at her and her mother’s apartment during the night) as they sit on the living room floor together. 

“This is a Furby. I can teach it to talk.” She says as she holds up a little, beaked abomination that looks somewhere between an owl and a hamster. Mulder tries not to cringe when it blinks at him and begins to speak a robotic-sounding gibberish. He makes a mental note to look into any X Files involving them when he’s back at work. “And this is the Gameboy Color Uncle Bill got for me. It came with Pokémon!” She holds up a purple brick of see-through plastic, revealing all of its internal components.

“Wow, looks like Uncle Bill really splurged this year.” Mulder’s eyes flick to the man in question, who’s watching him like a hawk while he sips eggnog.

“Emily deserves it.” He says plainly. Mulder can’t tell if Bill’s sour mood is due to his longtime hatred of his sister’s partner, or if he’s just suffering from baby-related sleep deprivation. Probably both.

“Be nice, you two,” Scully’s voice enters the room before she does, baby Matthew in her arms sucking a pacifier. “This one can sense your tension.” Somehow being scolded by Scully  and  a baby is more effective for Mulder.

“We’re good, aren’t we Bill?” Mulder asks her brother, who gives him a look he’s seen dozens of times before when Scully’s annoyed with him. It’s actually really weird coming from Bill.

Scully sits down on the couch with Matthew, Emily jumping up to join them.

“He’s a lot bigger than he was at Easter, isn’t he?” Scully asks Emily, who shrugs.

“He still looks pretty little to me.” She takes Matthew’s chubby hand in her own and he squeezes her finger.

“Well, that’s because he’s still a baby,” Scully says, adjusting him in her arms so that Emily can get a better look at him.

The scene’s so natural between the three of them that it almost breaks Mulder’s heart. He knows that Scully will probably never be able to get pregnant, and while most of her prayers were answered when Emily came into her life, she still will never get the chance to do this with her own baby. She missed all the really early stuff with Emily, and while she’s insisted to him countless times that she’s grateful for that fact (no diapers, no colic, and no horrors of pregnancy  _ does _ have an appeal to it), he can see the longing on her face while observing her daughter interact with the baby.

Scully gently places Matthew down on his feet, seeing if he’ll show off his walking skills that Bill and Tara had been bragging about a little while ago. He hesitates a moment, his little knees wobbling before he spots Mulder on the floor and begins taking shaky steps toward him.

“Looks like you have a little fan, Mulder.” Scully grins as she goes to her purse, returning with her camera.

“Hey, Buddy.” Mulder pulls Matthew into his lap and looks up at Scully waiting with her camera. “Say cheese,” He whispers to the baby and then smiles up at Scully. Last minute, Emily jumps into the picture as well.

“Now that’s a Kodak moment,” Scully says as she sets the camera down. “You’re a natural with him.”

“I think he just can’t possibly cry anymore today.” Bill supplies, still sipping away at that eggnog. Mulder has a feeling this may be his Christmas tradition.

Emily approaches Matthew with the Furby, showing it to him. Thankfully, the baby doesn’t have the same visceral reaction to the little monster that Mulder did, reaching out to touch it. “One day he’ll probably be a lot bigger than you, kid,” Mulder says to Emily’s absolute shock and disbelief.

“Really?” She asks, almost horrified.

“Unless you manage to overcome your mom’s short genes,” Mulder mumbles, but Scully still hears him.

She rolls her eyes. “Uncalled for, Mulder.” 

A few hours and TV showings of  _ It’s a Wonderful Life  _ and  _ A Christmas Story  _ later, the intoxicating smells of Christmas dinner permeate the entire house. Mulder goes to the bathroom to wash his hands, noting the childhood pictures of Scully and her siblings that adorn the hallway walls when he comes back out. He stops at one of Scully that looks like it was taken when she was about Emily’s age, grinning ear to ear as she holds up a fish nearly the size of her by its tail. Next to it, in contrast, is one of her as a teenager in what appears to be the early 1980s, judging by the puffiness of her emerald-green dress. He giggles at the way her face betrays her extreme discomfort as her bespectacled date holds her waist from behind.

“Junior prom, ‘81.” Mulder jumps, turning to Scully.

“We have got to stop sneaking up on each other like that.” He says, rubbing his chest and hoping his heart will calm down quickly.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” She moves closer to him and points at the boy in the picture with her. “That’s Geoff Evers. He was my lab partner and went as my date after my boyfriend Mike Ramos dumped me a week before the dance.”

“You look real thrilled.” Mulder jokes.

“That was taken at the beginning of the night. He actually was a terrific dancer. Meanwhile, Mike’s date got wasted on the spiked punch and threw up all over him. So really, karma’s a bitch.” Scully smiles at the memory, her face particularly lighting up at the last part.

“Good to know you don’t hold grudges.” Mulder smiles.

“To this day, that’s all ABBA makes me think of.” Scully moves to walk past him into the bathroom but stops cold in her tracks and slowly looks up. Mulder follows her gaze to see strategically placed mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

“Well, would you look at that.” Mulder attempts to say nonchalantly, but it doesn’t help that his voice has gotten higher.

“I should have known. It’s her go-to spot.” She squints up at it as if willing this archaic and extremely complicated Christmas decoration to disappear, which, of course, it doesn’t.

“Your mom’s good,” Mulder smirks, truly admiring the fact that Margaret hadn’t gone for the front doorway cliché while still maintaining the classic trap of putting it somewhere everyone has to walk under eventually.

Scully shakes her head. “My mom is sadistic.”

“Did you know that mistletoe is actually poisonous?” Mulder asks, trying to ignore the kissing tradition elephant in the room. After all, he and Scully have only ever come close to kissing once, and they’ve never spoken about that incident since. Hell, even Scully’s 30s doppelgänger socked him in the eye for kissing her.

“I did, actually. Phoratoxin.” Scully nods and looks at the stuff in question. “But this is fake. My mother’s had it since she and my father were first married.

“I see. So does fake mistletoe operate under different rules than the real stuff?” Mulder asks.

“Well technically, those rules are only enforceable if there are witnesses, and I don’t see anyone around. Do you?” She looks down the empty hallway and then turns back to Mulder, shrugging.“So that-” Scully points to the mistletoe. “Is  _ not  _ binding.” 

“In a  _ legal  _ sense, no, but it  _ is  _ a tradition.” Mulder slowly steps towards her, hardly believing his own nerve, so he can only guess how Scully feels. After all, there aren’t even any bees around to stop this at the last second. But if she truly doesn’t want to do this, he’ll of course back off. That’s just not the vibe he’s getting now.

Scully’s hand unconsciously tucks her hair behind her ear. “We don’t _always_ have to follow tradition, you know…” Her cheeks flush red and she doesn’t say it as a denial, but rather that Mulder doesn’t have to kiss her if _he_ doesn’t want to. As fucking if. “Nobody’s around. We could just walk away and pretend this never happened.” Scully practically whispers as she closes the distance herself, getting on her tiptoes and reaching up to pull Mulder down by the back of his neck.

He leans down the rest of the way to press his lips gently into hers, not wanting to do anything more than what Scully is comfortable with. Which is apparently a lot, considering she’s quickly deepening the kiss, parting her lips for him and entangling her hands in his hair. It lasts a few more seconds, Mulder’s tongue just barely beginning to explore her mouth, marveling in just how good she tastes, and then it’s over as quickly as it began with Scully pulling away and leaving Mulder feeling more than a little dazed. That was by far the best kiss of his life. Especially since it doesn’t appear that he’ll be getting punched this time.

“Wow.” He says, his brain not allowing anything more complex than that.

“I was...I was supposed to be going to the restroom. Excuse me,” Scully says as if she’s just now realizing what she’d initiated, pushing past him and going into the bathroom, the lock clicking.

Mulder can still hardly believe that what just happened actually happened when he returns to everyone in the living room. The TV’s now playing  _ Miracle on 34th Street  _ and Emily’s dozing on the floor next to the fireplace. Tara’s feeding Matthew on the couch next to Bill, who’s gotten progressively more inebriated as the day’s gone on. Mulder keeps walking into the kitchen to find Margaret taking plates out of the china hutch.

“Oh, Fox, could you give me a hand with these? The silver lining makes them weigh a ton.” Margaret gestures to the stack of plates and Mulder quickly obliges, taking them from her hands and walking them into the dining room, setting them around the table. Margaret comes up behind him with the silverware and cloth napkins.

“So, have you been enjoying your first Scully Christmas?” She asks with a knowing smile as she walks around the table arranging each place setting.

“I have. Not as much as Bill in there, but it’s been fun.”

Margaret laughs. “His father was the same way, but with hot buttered rum, which Melissa would sneak sips of. I never would have been able to get anything done on Christmas without Dana. She’s always been my helper.”

“That definitely sounds like her.” Mulder nods and returns to the kitchen, taking one of the prepared side dishes and bringing it into the dining room. “And you. You’ve been such a help with Emily this past year. I don’t know if Scully could have done it without you.”

“I should be saying the same to you, Fox. I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I think both of them are just a little bit in love with you.” Margaret finishes setting down the silverware.

“Oh, I’m not sure about that…” Mulder lies as he thinks about everything that’s happened in just the last 48 hours. Hell, the last five minutes.

“Fox, I sincerely hope you realize you’re wearing Dana’s lipstick right now,” Margaret says pointedly as she leaves him to check his reflection in the mirror, finding that he is indeed sporting a slight red lip. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand as he returns to the living room. 

Scully walks right past him into the kitchen, not making eye contact. He guesses she really is sticking to that, ‘pretending it never happened’ thing. “Mulder, will you take Emily to wash her hands for dinner?” She asks.

“Sure. Come on, Sleepyhead.” he picks Emily up off the floor and she whines a little as she wakes up in his arms. “I know, kid but we gotta get ready for dinner. I think your mom even made pumpkin pie.” 

She perks up at that, having him put her down as she sprints the rest of the way to the bathroom, Mulder following her to supervise. The girl does not need to be told twice when there’s pie involved; sometimes Mulder wonders if she actually  _ is  _ his.

Emily hums Jingle Bells as she washes her hands and Mulder takes this opportunity to grab a tissue and wipe away any remaining lipstick from his mouth.

“Fox?” Emily asks.

“Hmm?” Mulder asks, discarding the tissue.

“Are you staying here with me and Mommy tonight?” She tries to reach the hand towel but can’t manage it, so Mulder hands it to her.

“Not that I know of, kid.” He takes the towel back and hangs it up once she’s dried her hands. “So, did you get everything you wanted for Christmas?” He asks as he follows her to the dining room to join the others.

“I don’t know yet,” Emily says this almost cryptically as she takes the empty chair next to her grandmother, leaving Mulder between her and her mother.

Bill leads everyone in what Mulder can assume is the standard Catholic dinner grace, what with the crossing of themselves (Emily doing hers backward) and then they dig in, Mulder going straight for an end piece of the prime rib while Bill carves the turkey. Mulder wonders if it’s a good idea leaving that task to the man on his fifth--or was it sixth?-- eggnog, but he seems to know his way around an electric knife.

“I heard on the news that there’s supposed to be a blizzard tonight,” Tara Scully announces to the table after putting a few tiny pieces of turkey and a spoonful of mashed potatoes on a little plate for Matthew’s high chair tray. “I guess they’re going to have to close the highway.”

This proclamation is sort of a mixed bag for Mulder because, on one hand, it could mean him staying the night here, while on the other…

“Better be careful on those back roads tonight, Mulder,” Scully says from next to him, not looking up from her plate.

“Now Dana, that’s not very hospitable of you.” Margaret scolds her daughter. “You’re always welcome to stay here, Fox. We have a spare bedroom you can use and you can borrow some of the clothes Charlie left.”

Scully’s hand grips her fork tighter, her knuckles going a little white.

“Thank you, Margaret. I’d really prefer not to get in a wreck.”

“Great. Dana, after dinner, will you help me prepare Charlie’s room for Fox?”

Scully swallows so hard Mulder can hear it. “Of course, Mom.”


	3. Christmas Day (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in which Mulder and Scully remove their heads from their asses and realize their feelings for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There be smut in this chapter so I'm upping the rating. Enjoy, you crazy kids.

Sometimes Scully doesn’t understand why her mother stays in such a big house when her husband’s gone and all four of her children have long-since moved out, but then occasions like this happen and she loses any argument fodder she may have for Margaret downsizing.

Scully finds a set of sheets in Charlie’s closet and begins making quick work of making the bed up for Mulder, who, when last she saw him, was on his second piece of pie and enjoying a private Christmas concert from Emily (who thankfully did not inherit her mother’s tone-deafness). When she’s struggling with the fitted sheet, her mother sweeps in like a guardian angel.

“So, Fox seems to be doing a lot better,” She says, helping Scully finish getting the sheets on and then begins putting a few pillows into cases.

“Yes, he does.” Scully knows exactly where this conversation is going and she does not want to have it. So much so that she would have preferred putting the fitted sheet on by herself.

“How long have you two been seeing each other?” Margaret asks nonchalantly, going to the closet for a quilt.

“We aren’t dating, Mother; we work together.” It’s the same thing Scully’s said so many times over the past six years that it’s starting to sound hollow even to her.

“I’d believe that if you hadn’t been kissing him earlier.” 

“How do you know about that?” Scully doesn’t bother denying it, not with how certain her mother sounded. She wonders if Mulder let something slip.

“I’m your mother, I know what’s happening with you, especially in my own house.” Margaret unfolds the quilt and Scully helps her bring it over the top of the bed.

“Well, we still aren’t seeing each other.” Scully moves to leave the room, but her mother’s voice stops her in her tracks.

“Oh, so you’re just sleeping together?” Margaret’s voice betrays how appalled she actually is at that notion, even if she tries to say it casually.

“God, no! What happened today was...a one-time thing. Your stupid mistletoe was partially to blame. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Dana, I know you pride yourself on being so independent, but when are you going to open your eyes and see that if you keep passing up on having a life with a wonderful man who loves you and your daughter, one day the option might not be there anymore?” Margaret asks, and for the first time since she was a teenager, Scully kind of hates her mother. Not because Margaret’s being pushy or overbearing, but because Scully knows deep in her heart that she’s right.

“Since I have a daughter. Mulder’s barely more than a big kid himself, and besides, there’s another woman. One who’s got far less baggage than I do.” Scully knows that Mulder’s told her he doesn’t have feelings for Diana anymore, but she can’t shake the feeling that he might one day like to be with a more like-minded individual who doesn’t have a child born from a top-secret government science experiment. Which is not to say that Scully finds Emily to be a hindrance to any kind of romance she and Mulder may or may not have, but rather, she can’t bring herself to allow Mulder into both of their lives, only for him to look for a better deal down the line. She can’t put Emily through that. She can’t put herself through that.

“Fox is already a father to that girl. If you’re really so blind that you can’t see it, then I don’t know what to tell you, Dana. But I will say this; Emily may be your daughter, but she’s my granddaughter, and the more you string that man along, you string her along, and I won’t have that.” Margaret leaves on that note and Scully tries not to dwell on her words too much as she goes back downstairs, but they really are eating at her.

As of late, it’s become abundantly clear to her that she never will be comfortable with Mulder being with anyone else (past or present, apparently), and her denials of feelings for him seem to fall apart every time they’re in close proximity for too long. Like with some of her and Mulder’s cases, it’s begun to reach a point where constantly denying what’s there has begun to seem ludicrous. Especially upon witnessing the scene taking place in the living room.

Emily’s singing has been replaced with Darlene Love on the stereo. Emily stands on Mulder’s feet as he holds her hands and sways to the music. It’s another picture-worthy moment, so she sneaks over to her camera and manages to snap one before Mulder looks up and meets her gaze, smiling and then leaning down to whisper something into Emily’s ear.

“Mommy, will you cut in and dance with Fox?” Emily clearly repeats what she was told, stepping off of Mulder’s feet and holding his hand out towards her mother.

Scully laughs, shaking her head. “He can’t ask me himself?” Nevertheless, she takes Mulder’s hand and tries not to yelp as he pulls her in close.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find a Cher Christmas album,” Mulder says, motioning that he’s about to dip her before he does just that, to Emily’s applause.

“See, kid? One day you could have these moves.” Mulder says this over Scully, still having not brought her back up from the lift.

Scully begins to laugh at the absurdity of it, and Mulder finally brings her back up.

“Better than Geoff Evers?” He whispers in her ear.

Scully raises an eyebrow at this, frankly a little surprised that he would remember that anecdote at all with how crazy this day’s been, let alone what her prom date’s name was. “That depends; can you do the sprinkler and the worm?”

Mulder shakes his head. “Unfortunately no, those moves are a little too advanced for me. But I can do this.” Without notice, he lifts Scully up, one arm under hers and the other under her knees and swings her around a couple of times, his forehead resting against hers. If her daughter wasn’t watching their every move, Scully might be tempted to eliminate the decidedly close distance between their lips, but she’s content to spend the remaining seconds in Mulder’s arms being amazed at the fact that he somehow checks so many boxes of what she long ago decided makes up the perfect guy. 

Mulder sets her back down on her feet and begins swaying in a far more relaxed way than their ballroom dance tutorial before. “They ought to call you Spooky Astaire.” Scully laughs

“Only if you’ll be my Dr. Rogers.” He smiles.

“Always.”

“Fox, can you swing me around?!” Emily asks, getting between them. Literally.

“Psh. Easy.” Mulder fake scoffs and lets go of Scully to reach down and pick Emily up under the arms like she’s nothing as he spins her around, falling down on the couch with her when they’re both clearly dizzy, laughing all the while.

Scully joins them, trying not to dwell too much on the fact that this is easily the happiest she’s seen Mulder in what feels like forever.

“Mommy, how much time’s left until it’s not Christmas?” Emily asks sleepily as she crawls into Scully’s lap, her head resting against her mother’s chest. It’s been a very long day and Scully can feel it catching up to her as well. 

Scully thinks about it for a second, “Well, it’s 9:00, which means there are three hours left where we are, but there’s six on the west coast and eight in Hawaii. Emily looks personally offended.

“Why does Hawaii get…” She does the math in her head, counting on her fingers, which is more than Scully can say for basically any other preschooler she’s met. “Uh, five?” Scully nods. “Five more hours!”

“Well, we tell time based on the Earth’s rotations around the sun, and we on the east coast are near the sun five hours sooner than Hawaii, so we also get Christmas five hours sooner while they have to wait,” Mulder explains as Scully smooths Emily’s hair, still holding its curl from this morning, which she’s almost envious of.

Emily nods knowingly. “So we get Christmas first?”

“In the United States, yes.” Mulder nods.

“That’s good.” Emily snuggles closer into Scully. “But what if I haven’t gotten my last present yet?”

“Well, then I guess Santa has until Midnight Hawaii time,” Scully says, knowing Emily will have long been asleep by then, and she doesn’t really have the heart to say that presents are done with for the year, so she figures that’s a conversation for tomorrow, when Emily isn’t drowsy and cranky from carb overload. Especially when she still has absolutely no idea what Emily’s thinks she’ll get. “But you have to go to bed now.” Scully fully expects to have to fight her on this, but Emily just sighs, already beginning to fall asleep in her arms.

“Okay, Mommy.”

“I’ll be back.” Scully mouths to Mulder and carries Emily upstairs to what was once her own room. It’s where Emily always sleeps while she stays with her grandmother, so Scully doesn’t really mind taking the guest bedroom that was Melissa’s. Though calling it as much will make the sleeping arrangement more uncomfortable than it has to be. Scully’s entire childhood was spent wishing she could have her sister’s slightly bigger room in every house they moved to, but getting it now that’s she’s been dead for a few years is not a victory. She’d gladly sleep in her mother’s linen closet if it meant having her sister back.

“Did you have a good Christmas?” Scully asks as she helps Emily change into her pajamas and puts her to bed.

“Yeah,” Emily says, pulling the covers up to her chin. “I’m glad Fox is here.” 

“Me too.” Scully smiles and tucks Emily in just how she likes.

“Even if he banged his head on the sidewalk?” Emily asks, giggling.

Scully rolls her eyes. “He’s been hurt worse before.” She kisses Emily’s forehead. “Good night, Munchkin. I love you.”

“I love you most,” Emily replies, and Scully moves to turn out the light. “Mommy?” 

“Yes?” Scully asks.

“I think Fox loves you, too,” Emily says this with a mischievous look in her eye, pulling the covers up higher.

Scully shakes her head. “That’s- honey, why would you think that?”

“Because he looks at you like boys are supposed to look at girls they’re in love with. And he’s really funny and a really good dancer and he makes you smile.”

“You make me smile. Mulder- he’s...it’s very complicated between us. More than I think you’ll understand until you’re a little older.” Scully begins to rub circles on her temple, not wanting to have this conversation with her mother, let alone her four-year-old.

“But it’s not complicated! He loves you and you love him. If you want to be together then you should!”

“Emily, what I want hardly matters as much as what is good for both of us.” Scully intends for that to be the end of things as she finally turns off the light.

“So you do love him.” Emily smiles as she relaxes into her bed, satisfied with her mother’s accidental admission.

Scully has half a mind to stay there and argue, but there’s probably nothing more pathetic than getting defensive about your love life with a child who isn’t even in kindergarten yet, so she leaves it at that, leaving the door just barely cracked. She takes this opportunity to go put her own pajamas on, as well as her bathrobe and then returns downstairs to Mulder, who’s apparently had the time to find some pajamas in Charlie’s room (or rather, a black George Thorogood t-shirt and some sweatpants).

“Is Mom still up?” Scully asks, not hearing the familiar sounds of Margaret puttering around for something to fuss over, just the stereo now turned down low and the occasional crackle from the fireplace, but needing to ask anyway.

“No, she went to bed a few minutes ago. She did make us these, though.” He gestures to the coffee table, containing what Scully can only think to be her mom’s famous hot buttered rum. It was always her dad’s favorite, and she remembers him letting her sneak tiny sips as a kid. She didn’t really understand that it contained alcohol then, just that it was really sweet and delicious. Scully doesn’t hesitate taking one of the mugs, wrapping her hands around it. She never feels like she’s truly warm in the winter. It’s why so much of her closet space is taken up by oversized coats. She takes a test sip, enjoying the slight burn in her throat from a combination of the rum and the actual heat, then taking in the vanilla-cinnamon-nutmeg goodness. She tries to keep the borderline sexual sounds down to a minimum, but then again, Mulder’s seen her experience the same thing with really good BBQ ribs before. 

Mulder follows suit, a foam mustache forming above his mouth. “Oh my god.”

“I know.” Scully nods as Mulder goes back to sipping his drink with the enthusiasm of a kid who’s never had chocolate milk before. “So, I think now’s a good time to say thank you for coming here. I know a lot of it hasn’t been the greatest, but-”

“Scully. I’m not exaggerating when I say that this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Being here with you and Emily and your mom’s cooking,” he gestures at the mug in his hand, “I could do a lot worse.”

“It’s just- this is the first Christmas Emily and I have really spent together as a family and I tried so hard to make it perfect but I don’t think I could have done it without you here. She loves you so much.”

“Well, I love her, too.” 

The two of them finish their drinks in silence and then take the empty mugs into the kitchen, Scully rinsing them and putting them in the dishwasher. 

Mulder comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Are we ever going to talk about earlier?” He asks softly.

“Yes, I just-” Scully sighs, “Mulder, apart from Emily, you’re the most important person in my life. I don’t want to complicate what you and I already have for some fling.”

Mulder urges her to turn around so that he can look into her eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not at a point in my life where I’m just looking for some meaningless relationship anymore. You mean everything to me, Dana. I’m done messing around.”

Scully swears she can feel her heart skip a beat. The times when Mulder’s been this forthcoming with her could be counted on one hand, but then again, this has been a long time coming.

“Mulder, I-“ Of course she would be at a loss for words at a time like this.

“It’s late. You don’t have to make any immediate decisions.” Mulder’s voice is shaky. Almost like he’s worried that if Scully speaks now, she’ll crush any hope he may have of something more with her. Which is not at all the case. Quite the contrary, actually, and that’s what’s rendered Scully speechless. “Just know that I’m- I’m here. And the only way I’ll ever go anywhere is if you tell me to.” He moves to leave the kitchen. “Good night. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Mulder.” Scully watches him go, standing there in the kitchen for just a little longer before she finally goes upstairs to bed. 

Being in her sister’s room makes Scully feel closer to Melissa, even if there’s nothing left of her in there (their mother made sure of that not long after she died). They’d always been so different, and yet until Mulder came around, Melissa knew Scully better than anyone in the world. So Scully finds herself lying in bed, wide awake, knowing exactly what her sister would be saying (or rather, shouting) at her right about now.

“Dana, what the hell are you doing? Right down the hall is the perfect guy who hangs the moon for you and your kid and he wants you. Why in the fuck are you lying there, letting him believe that you don’t feel exactly the same way about him Sure, he’s a little weird, but so are you? So stop hiding from your feelings and get in there, little sister.”

In so many words.

Oddly enough, this imagined pep talk is all it takes for Scully to throw the covers off of herself and begin her slow creep down the hall to what was Charlie’s room. She’s almost 35 years old and she can honestly say that she’s never snuck into a man’s bedroom before tonight. 

She doesn’t knock, she just opens the door to find Mulder sitting up in bed, using the lamp on the bedside table to read a copy of Stephen King’s Christine, which he must have found in Charlie’s things. Of course, he snooped around. Scully wonders if he’s found a bag of 15-year-old weed yet. Maybe the one her brother stole from under the loose floorboard of her own room when she went off to Stanford.

Mulder puts the book down on the table, taking his reading glasses off and setting them on top of it. The scene oddly reminds Scully of when they first met. They’re older now, and they know each other far better than the reputations that preceded them, and yet the same slightly scared, almost sick, but excited feeling fills Scully’s stomach tonight.

“I just want to make something perfectly clear,” Scully says, closing the door behind her and stepping towards the bed. “You are not at all the man I envisioned for myself, let alone someone I would ever imagine raising a child with. You’re irrational and stubborn and just downright ridiculous a good percentage of the time. You love sports way too much and I hate the way you leave sunflower seed shells everywhere. It’s disgusting.”

“Is there a point to this or…?” Mulder asks.

“There is. Because you see, as much as it truly pains me to say it, I think you might be it for me. When I wake up every morning, it’s you that I wish would be lying there next to me. And when I think about it, my whole life as I know it is entirely dependent on you and I would never want it to be any different.” Scully crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed, taking Mulder’s hand in her own. “Mulder, I love you. And you’re in no way obligated to say it back, but-”

“I love you, too.” Mulder grins.

“Oh, thank God,” Scully says and grabs Mulder by the front of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. This one is different from the one they shared earlier today. While that was an impulsive move that Scully half-regretted a few seconds in (not the act itself but the cheesy context), this is something she never wants to end. The feeling that Mulder wants her, that Mulder loves her is unlike anything she’s had with anyone else. 

Without breaking the kiss, Scully maneuvers herself so that she’s straddling Mulder.

“Whoa.” He sighs, and Scully immediately pulls back, nervously putting her hair behind her ears. She 

“Too much?” She asks, suddenly feeling self-conscious. It’s not like she really does this often.

“No, no! Not at all; I just...do you really want to do this here while I’m wearing your kid brother’s underwear?” Mulder gestures around himself as if to remind Scully that they’re about to do this in her mother’s house.

“Well, ideally, you won’t be wearing them for long…” Scully trails off, her hand going to the waistband of Mulder’s sweatpants.

“Fuck,” He sighs when her hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly, almost teasingly, under his pants.

“We just have to be quiet. Think you can manage that?” She whispers.

Mulder nods.

“Good.” Scully kisses him as she pulls his cock out of his pants. They’ve seen a good deal of each other over the years, but Scully can honestly say this is the first time she’s seen all of Mulder. He’s a bit bigger than she’d imagined. She looks up from it into Mulder’s eyes to see his pupils blown. She maintains that eye contact as she moves down, taking him into her mouth.

It’s been an embarrassingly long time since Scully’s done this, so she really hopes she’s doing okay as she lightly bobs her head up and down over the tip and sinking down lower each time. But judging by the way he closes his eyes and leans his head back, gasping, she assumes she’s doing something right.

Mulder entangles his right hand in her hair, not yanking it or pushing her head down further, just going along for the ride while holding it tight enough for an amazing pressure.

“Dana,” Mulder sighs, and Scully’s amazed at how natural that sounds in this situation. But she has other things in mind and has a strong feeling that they won’t get to them if she keeps up what she’s doing, so she releases Mulder from her mouth with a small pop of her lips. “God, you’re so sexy it’s not fair,” Mulder whispers, making quick work of removing his shirt and then the sweatpants and tightie whities that he’s by some miracle able to look good in.

“You aren’t so bad yourself,” Scully says, feeling suddenly very overdressed and a little ridiculous in her red pajamas. She begins to unbutton the top, only for Mulder’s hand to go over hers.

“Let me,” He says, and Scully’s hands fall to her sides as she lets him expose her button by button while he begins kissing and sucking at her neck. She prays he doesn’t leave a hickey for all to see tomorrow morning, but then again, she did pack a turtleneck, so she’s not about to stop him when it feels so damn good.

Mulder pushes the shirt off of her and his hands immediately go to her breasts, cupping them and running his thumbs over her nipples.

“I always took you for an ass man,” Scully smirks and is surprised when Mulder looks almost affronted. 

“I’m not really a fan of labels like that,” Mulder accentuates this statement by immediately taking his hands off of Scully’s breasts and reaching down to grab her ass. “Not when there’s so much about you I love.”

“Oh, really?” Scully raises an eyebrow as she places her hands on Mulder’s shoulders for leverage so she can grind her still-clothed hips down on his.

“Fuck!” He groans, pulling her in closer by the ass.

“You like that?” Scully whispers in his ear, grinding into him again before pulling away, getting completely off of him as she sits back on her heels.

“Tease.” Mulder seethes, pulling her on top of him and kissing her hard before rolling them both over so he’s on top, pinning her down. 

“What are you going to do about it?” She challenges and she can practically see Mulder fun through a thousand scenarios in his head before he pulls her pajama pants down, scooting back a bit so he can pull them all the way off, then spreading her legs apart just far enough to get his head between them. “Oh.” Scully gasps as Mulder’s mouth explores her.

He runs his tongue over her entrance before he finds her clit, sucking it.

Scully raises her hips, needing more, and Mulder complies, bringing his hand up to enter her with one finger and then two.

“You’re so wet,” He says, sounding almost amazed. It’s as endearing as it is sexy.

“Your fault,” Scully says, and it’s honestly all she can muster as she feels an orgasm building.

“Damn straight.” Mulder curls his fingers inside her, hitting just the right spot that sends her over the edge, squeezing his head between her thighs as she struggles to not cry out. A task that feels more and more impossible by the second as Mulder doesn’t stop his tongue swirling around her clit, hitting her with aftershocks that have her feeling like the lower half of her body has completely turned to overstimulated gelatin.

When Mulder finally pulls back, sucking on his fingers as he hovers over her, Scully breathes heavily, enjoying this short reprieve while it lasts. Which isn’t long as Mulder positions himself at her entrance.

“Is this okay?” He asks, and Scully nods, but he waits for her verbal reply.

“Yes. It’s more than okay, Mulder.”

“Good.” He says, and then he’s pushing in so excruciatingly slow. Like he wants to savor every second of first being inside of her. As much as it’s kind of driving her crazy, Scully can hardly blame him. This has been a very long time coming between them and she can hardly believe it herself that Fox ‘Spooky’ Mulder is currently inside of her. And he feels so damn good.

Scully grabs his ass, pulling him in closer, deeper, tired of waiting. 

“God I’ve wanted you so bad,” Mulder whispers, pulling out and then thrusting deep inside of her, hard but slow. He grunts and Scully swallows any remaining sounds he can make with another kiss as she reaches down between them to find her own clit, rubbing in fast circles to make up for Mulder’s slow pace.

Scully grinds her hips up to meet Mulder’s, the two of them moving in synch, even as Mulder speeds up his thrusts, giving Scully exactly what she was wanting. “Fuck, Mulder!” She sighs. She never could have expected that sex with her partner would be this good. If she had, maybe Bellefleur, Oregon would have gone differently.

“Scully,” 

Mulder’s thrusts are becoming uneven in pace, and Scully knows what that means. She rubs her clit faster, trying to work herself up to another orgasm. “Come on, fuck me.” She grinds her hips up again as she eggs him on, wondering if he can last longer out of pure spite alone. She doesn’t put it past him.

He does her one better, pulling out briefly as he resituates them, bringing Scully’s ankles up onto his shoulders as he drives his cock into her, the new angle hitting her in all the right places. “Fuck, Scully, I’m close,” He groans, and she doesn’t even mind, finally feeling herself get there as well.

“Come inside me, Mulder,” she sighs, and then her orgasm’s hitting her just as hard as the one before, if not harder. She feels almost light-headed as Mulder thrusts into her hard one more time, grunting as he comes. Then he’s gently taking Scully’s legs off of him and collapsing on top of her as she runs her hand lovingly through his sweaty hair. She’s momentarily enjoying the feeling of all his weight on top of her as if he’s the only thing tethering her here as she comes down from her own high.

“I love you.” He whispers, lifting his head up to look in her eyes. “I love you more than anything in this life. In this universe.”

“I love you, too.” Scully plants a quick kiss on his lips and smiles, still hardly believing they’re here right now.

After a few minutes like that, just taking each other in, Mulder finally rolls off of her, breathing heavily as he lies on his back. “We should have done this years ago.”

Scully snuggles up to him. “I agree.” She looks over at the clock on the bedside table, seeing that it reads 12:05. “It’s not Christmas anymore.”

“Nope,” Mulder says, then pulls Scully in closer as they start to feel sleep take over them both.

Things are so much more complicated between them than they were less than 24 hours before, and yet Scully doesn’t mind one bit. She wouldn’t trade this Christmas in for anything in the world. She has all she could ever want in the world. A job that matters, a great kid, and a man who she loves more than she could have ever imagined. Yes, things are still totally messed up, and she knows that one unforgettable day won’t change that. But it’s a start. That’s what has Scully smiling as she moves to get up from the bed, trying to ignore the stickiness between her legs so she can collect her pajamas from the floor.

“You’re leaving me?” Mulder mumbles, half asleep but still sounding hurt.

“To go down the hall, yes. If my mother were to find us naked in bed together under her roof, I would never hear the end of it.” Scully pulls on her pajama bottoms and then the shirt, buttoning it.

“But I need you here,” Mulder whines, his hand flexing out toward her.

Scully rolls her eyes at this ridiculous man she’s apparently in love with. That’s one she’ll have to get used to. “Trust me, I’m saving you from a Catholic mother guilt trip.”

“But we’re in our thirties and you already have a child out of wedlock.” A very good point made by a very naked man as he sits up in bed, gesturing for Scully to pass him his discarded underwear, the rest of his previous ensemble be damned.

Scully tosses the tightie whities at him, hitting him in the face. “Does it really count as having a child out of wedlock if she was born via surrogate after my eggs were harvested without my consent for a top-secret government experiment?” 

“Now that’s a question for your priest.” Mulder chuckles as he pulls the underwear on. 

“How is my life this fucked up, Mulder?” It’s a question Scully’s been asking herself constantly. She tries not to because Emily is her life, but the circumstances of her existing are also tied to some of the worst things Scully’s experienced. Her abduction, cancer, and subsequent infertility from a combination of the two haunt her every day and yet she has the most perfect little girl to show for it. Sometimes that’s a hard contradiction to reconcile.

“Take it from someone whose life has been fucked up for a very long time. Sometimes the fucked up parts, no matter how bad, are what make us...us. I mean, can you imagine me without the X Files?” Mulder motions once again for Scully to snuggle up to him, which she finally does. At least they aren’t naked.

“I don’t want to imagine that.” Scully laughs. Mulder without the X Files just wouldn’t be Mulder at all. And when she thinks about it, despite all of the bad, she does like who she is now more than she did before Mulder and the abduction and Emily. “So, any guesses on what Emily wanted for Christmas? Because I’m stumped and I already had to pay $100 for that Furby from a scam artist outside the Toys R’Us.”

“You paid $100 for that thing?” Mulder bursts into laughter.

“They sold out everywhere and I heard on the news that some people were paying double that.” Scully tries to defend this purchase, but Mulder’s not having it.

“I know you’re not usually one for slasher flicks, but you do realize that that’s the exact premise of Child’s Play, right? Please tell me you’re at least aware.” Mulder gives the impression that he’s being entirely serious about the possibility of a killer Furby, and with what the two of them have seen over the years, Scully can’t say it’s completely outside the realm of extreme possibility.

“Don’t say things like that, Mulder. I’m the one who has to have it in my apartment. Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

Mulder shrugs but he clearly knows, Scully just doesn’t have the energy to press the issue further, disentangling herself from him again, getting up to return to her room but lingering near the door.

“We should do this again sometime,” Mulder says after her, and Scully smiles.

“You’re going to have to wine and dine me next time, Romeo.” 

“Oh, you wound me. I can do romance, Dana Scully. Just you wait.” Mulder curls up under the covers and Scully leaves him that way, all the promise in the world hanging over her as she returns to her room, passing by Emily’s room and hearing her quiet snoring as she goes, feeling for the first time in a long time that she’s beginning to understand what normal is supposed to be for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's occurred to me that I'm in love with this universe, so this probably won't be the last you guys see of this particular version of the characters. Starting with a little epilogue chapter. Stay tuned.


	4. The Morning After Christmas (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to tell the kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a bonus mini chapter for you all.

The day after Christmas starts with the sound of rain hitting the roof. Mulder awakens at the sound, feeling slightly confused at where he is until the clouds start to dissipate from his head. He’s at Scully’s mother’s house. Where they confessed their feelings for each other. Where they had sex. 

Mulder checks under the covers to find he’s still in those damn tightie whities, just making sure that last part wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t.

He gets up and puts the shirt and sweatpants from last night back on so that he can go downstairs, where Scully and her mother are sitting together in the kitchen, both in their bathrobes sipping coffee.

“Good morning, Fox,” Margaret greets him while Scully, her hair still wet from the shower, musters a smile.

“Morning.” He takes a seat next to Scully as Margaret gets up from the table to get him a cup.

“You just missed Bill, Tara, and the baby. They had to take an early flight,” Scully says, pushing the sugar shaker closer to him.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Mulder takes the cup of coffee from Margaret. “Thank you.”

“So, it looks like the rain cleared a lot of that snow from the roads. You two should be good to go home,” Margaret says as she peeks out the kitchen window.

“Mom, are you trying to get rid of us?” Scully asks.

“Of course not. But I  _ am  _ dying to take down all these decorations and I know how you are about that.”

“Well, we’ll get out of your hair. I just have to go get Emily out of bed, so wish me luck.” Scully finishes off her coffee and heads upstairs, leaving Mulder alone with her mother.

Margaret doesn’t sit back down, still standing as she seems to be staring into his soul. “So, you and Dana...what’s going on with you two? And remember, I’ve had four children, so I’m a human lie detector.”

“It’s...complicated,” Mulder says, wanting to spare her the details of what happened last night.

“Well, I’ll only say this once, but treat her right, Fox. You know as well as anyone that she’s been through so much. Don’t hurt her.” It’s the most threatening Mulder has ever seen her. “Now, I washed your clothes from yesterday, so you should be good to go. I’ll put them in Charlie’s room for you, along with a bath towel.” She gets up to do just that, leaving Mulder alone in the kitchen to finish his coffee, feeling more scared of Scully’s mother than most of his case subjects.

By the time he’s showered and changed back into his clothes, Scully’s already gotten herself and Emily dressed for the trip home. She stops him in the hallway as he towel dries his hair. “So I was thinking that maybe you and I should take Emily out to brunch to talk about things?” She suggests, and Mulder’s honestly a little surprised, having assumed she would want to wait, but then, Emily’s incredibly perceptive, and Mulder knows Scully would much prefer telling her than having her find out on her own.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Where were you thinking?” He’s suddenly nervous. Scully’s mother knowing about them is one thing, but Emily’s quite another.

“Maybe that diner near the office that you like so much? The one with the mini pancakes? We’ll meet you there.” Scully gets on her tiptoes to kiss Mulder on the cheek. “Em, we’re going!” She calls downstairs and lifts the handle of her rolling suitcase.

Mulder hangs the towel in the bathroom and goes after her, smoothing his hair with his hands as he goes.

* * *

Scully ends up beating him to the diner, Emily already sitting in her booster seat and coloring on her kids menu when he arrives.

“I ordered you your usual.” Scully says as he puts his coat on the back of his chair.

Mulder smiles, wondering how in the hell it took them this long to realize that maybe they were more than friends this whole time. “Thank you.”

“Fox, I finished the maze in one try!” Emily announces proudly, holding up her menu for Mulder to see, letting him check for any stray lines aside from the one.

“Good job, kid. Gosh you’re smart.” He smiles.

Emily nods knowingly. “Grandma says that it’s because Mommy’s so smart.” 

“And modest to boot.” Mulder steals a drink from her orange juice, earning a playful glare before Emily returns to her coloring.

“So Emily, the reason we wanted to come here is that Mulder and I have something to tell you.” Scully reaches until the table to take Mulder’s hand in her own, clearly nervous.

“Tell me what?” Emily asks, confused as she eyes them both, slowly putting the purple crayon down on the table.

“Well, um…” Scully starts, clearly struggling to find the words, so Mulder steps in.

“I would like to ask your permission to take your mom out on a date.” Mulder moves his arm so that he and Scully are holding hands where Emily can see.

Her face lights up as realization dawns on her.

“Oh my goodness, Santa did it!”

Now it’s Scully’s turn to look confused. “Santa did what?” She asks.

“Santa made you two fall in looove,” Emily says in a sing-song voice, grinning. “Just like I asked for.”

Mulder laughs as he uses his free hand to pick up the coffee Scully ordered for him. “So is that a yes?”

“It’s a big yes, Fox.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, stay tuned for more to come in this universe.


End file.
